


Unintentional Biochemical Reactions

by hilarychuff



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Episode: s01e15 Yes Men, Gen, Violence, Yes Men Alternate Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 19:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1399372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hilarychuff/pseuds/hilarychuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fire extinguisher collides with his skull with a sick sounding thud and she can feel the force of the impact vibrating back up through her fingers. Coulson collapses to the ground in front of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unintentional Biochemical Reactions

The fire extinguisher collides with his skull with a sick sounding thud and she can feel the force of the impact vibrating back up through her fingers. Coulson collapses to the ground in front of them and her stomach twists at the sight but that’s one down, one of three men out of the way, and Jemma looks up with a sigh of relief even as Skye’s mouth twists in distaste. 

“Jesus, Simmons,” she spits automatically, leaning over the edge of the bed to get a peak at their superior officer, now unconscious and probably already in the process of forming a rather large goose egg on his head. “You really clocked him.”

“I had to!” But Jemma’s hands are already fluttering nervously at her side and even though she knows there wasn’t another way this feels far too much like shooting Agent Sitwell as she moves forward to grab Coulson by the ankles and drag him further into the room. 

The clatter coming from upstairs helps remind her where she is, what she’s doing, and she flinches as an especially loud thud sounds from somewhere above them. 

“So what do we do now?” Skye asks from the bed, and she’s already tugging at tubes and wires, swinging her legs over the side even as Jemma reaches out to stop her. 

“You stay in bed. Keep an eye on Coulson. I’ll – figure it out upstairs.”

“You can’t go up there alone! You don’t even know how to throw a real punch!”

Skye has a point with this and part of Jemma desperately agrees with her, doesn’t want to go upstairs to face it alone when, of the two of them, she isn’t exactly the one who’s been training for weeks. But Skye is sick and her recovery is important and Coulson would never forgive her if something happened once Coulson was fully Coulson again. 

“I won’t be alone,” she promises weakly, and steps forward to tuck Skye back in and make sure everything is properly situated. “Lady Sif is up there to manage Lorelei and May will take care of Ward. She’s the bloody Cavalry, after all. I’ve just got to take care of Fitz, and it’s not like he’s had any more training than I have.”

Saying the words reassures her somewhat, and Skye’s satisfied – if slightly dubious – expressions helps too, so she steels herself and heads for the door. 

“Wait! What do I do if AC wakes back up? He’s sort of an old dude, I don’t know if I should hit him again…” Skye trails off, unsure, and Jemma nods. Right. With Skye still on bed rest, Coulson waking up means it’ll be four against three, and those odds are hardly in her favor even with May on her side. 

“Give me a minute,” Jemma says, and then she’s out the door and down the hallway. After a few minutes, she’s back and she holds the gun out to Skye carefully. 

“You want me to shoot him?” 

“It’s just a Night-Night Gun! Fitz must’ve hidden all the new ICErs, but I had one of the old Night-Nights hidden in my things in the lab.”

“I guess it’s better than a fire extinguisher.” Skye bites her lip but reaches for the gun, but as she takes it in one hand she reaches for Jemma’s wrist with the other. “Be careful, okay?”

She will. 

Upstairs, sneaking around corners, she’s almost to the interrogation room when she sees him – and when he sees her. 

Fitz is standing in front of the door, arms crossed, smiling when she first sees him, guarding the door maybe, but then they catch eyes and his smile falls. 

“Simmons,” he starts, and she freezes. “You’re not supposed to be out here.”

She’s running before he finishes his sentence.

“Simmons, get back here!” he shouts and he’s chasing her, now, his footsteps falling heavily behind her but she’s fast, she’s always been faster than him, and with the head start she’s down the stairs towards the cargo hold before he’s even at the top of them. The doors to the lab are open and she thinks about going in, but if she goes in there’s only the one way out, so she sprints across the space and tucks herself behind Lola, and he’s only just half-way down the stairs when she ducks down out of sight. 

He slows down when he reaches the bottom and doesn’t see her.

“Simmons,” he calls out, and she holds her breath behind the tire. “It’s for your own good, Simmons – can’t have you getting in the way, Lorelei wouldn’t like that.” He takes a few steps forward, peeking around, and then steps into the lab. 

“Just come out, Simmons, and you can go back and sit in the room with Skye until Lorelei says it’s okay.”

Slowly, carefully, she moves forward from behind the car, taking a step forward each time he moves further into the lab. 

“You should’ve just stayed in there, Jemma,” he calls out warningly, and she can hear the familiar sound of irritation seeping into his voice now. 

He’s halfway through a would-be-macho, “I don’t want to hurt you, Jemma,” when she lunges forward and he spins around at the sound of her feet slapping the platform but it’s too late, she’s already slapped her hand over the quarantine button, and the doors of the lab slide closed, seal themselves in front of him. He’s at them immediately, slamming palms and fists against the glass, shouting. 

“Sorry, Fitz, but I can’t have you getting in the way,” she says apologetically, echoing his own words back at him and pressing a palm to the other side of the glass before she turns. 

The sound of fighting still echoes from the main deck, louder now, and she’s quieter this time, more careful when she sneaks through the corridor. The clang of metal on metal and flesh on flesh is almost overwhelming and Jemma sucks in a breath at the sight of Lorelei and Sif fighting in the interrogation room, spilling into the hallway, and then down by the cabin May and Ward are rolling on the ground, hands at each other and fists flying. 

She thinks maybe if she can help stop Ward, if she and May can knock him unconscious somehow, then the three of them with Sif stand a good chance against Lorelei. She’s halfway across the room towards the two agents, still grappling on the floor, reaching for something Jemma can’t quite see when they both suddenly lurch to a halt and she can see what it is now, it’s a gun, and Ward’s got it pointed right at May. 

He’s saying something Jemma can’t quite hear through the rushing of blood in her ears and then he’s pulling the trigger and she’s shouting May’s name but there’s no shot fired, no bullets, and May has the cartridge in her hand but she’s turning to look at Jemma as Ward lunges forward and Jemma’s screaming again even as Ward slams the butt of the gun into May’s head. 

He turns to look at her next and they both freeze, and maybe it’s only for a second but it’s long enough for Lorelei to walk out from behind them, take the scene in, and say in that smooth voice of hers, “Take care of her.”

Jemma knows what that means, remembers what happened to that biker’s wife back at the little bar, and she takes a few nervous steps back before she’s pivoting and sprinting outright because if she can get downstairs, if she can get to Skye then maybe Skye can shoot him with the Night-Night Gun gun and May can wake up and Sif will be okay and all of them against Lorelei is manageable, they can do it if only she can get downstairs to Skye – 

She doesn’t make it past their bedrooms before he reaches her. He’s always been fast, and he’s trained, and she can beat Leo in a race but Grant Ward is another beast entirely, and she can feel his hands against her arms as he catches up. Stars burst in front of her eyes and behind her eyes and at the back of her head and there’s a splitting pain at the left side of her skull where it’s collided with the wall and everything spins for a second before it fades out entirely. 

Her eyes flutter and her head feels like lead, but his arms are strong, careful beneath her and she lets her head loll against his shoulder. She’s not sure where she is for a second, only that she’s in Grant’s arms, and her mind is thick with confusion as she mulls the possibilities. Was she hurt on a mission? Did she fall asleep in the chair by Skye’s bed again? Did some experiment go wrong?

He shifts her gently, almost tenderly in his arms and she thinks for a moment that maybe things are alright even as she feels him pressing something, some buttons beneath her, but then she hears the cargo hold opening, feels the gust of wind from it, and remembers. 

The scream rips from her throat before she can even fully process what’s happening, and his formerly tender touch turns to bruising when she begins to thrash in his arms. He’s strong, though, and prepared for something of a fight, so for all of the twisting and scratching and screaming and biting and kicking he just keeps moving forward. 

She says words like please and stop and Ward but her voice is thick with sobs and the cries tearing through her throat and if any of the words even come out properly he doesn’t listen. She can taste his blood in her mouth, her own blood in her mouth, feel its warm stickiness under her nails and dripping from her fingertips but she can’t see through her blurred vision and she doesn’t want this, she can’t do this again, she remembers what it felt like to fall before and the nightmares still haven’t stopped and last time Ward came after her but if he’s the one responsible there’s no one to jump out and save her.

Stomach acid burns the back of her throat and she can feel herself heaving and then he lets go and she’s falling, falling but after a moment she hits the metal platform instead of endless sky and blindly, numbly she digs her fingers into the grooves of the floor. She’s not sure if she’s still screaming or if it’s just an echo ringing in her ears but there are arms around her, gathering her up, soft and safe and she sinks into them. 

Somewhere far away there are soft murmurs and hushes and fingers in her hair, but the wind is roaring in her ears, loud and fierce and so close. It’s only when she hears the cargo hold shut behind her and she looks up to see May that she even realizes it’s Skye who’s been holding her, Skye who’s been cradling Jemma’s head to her chest and stroking her hair and whispering something indecipherable over Jemma’s own heavy breathing. She almost wants to scold her for leaving her bed, for risking her health, but her head is still swimming and she can’t catch her breath and the only sound she can make is a cracked whimper. 

“It’s okay,” May says, but Ward is on the ground a few feet from them and the Night-Night gun is just another few feet past him where Skye dropped it, and Fitz is still standing with his face pressed to the glass and his hands are red from beating against it and her throat is raw and sore. “Lady Sif has Lorelei in the interrogation room with her collar on,” May continues. “She’s taking her back to Asgard as soon as we land. Fitz, Coulson, and Ward should all be back to normal.”

Jemma can feel Skye’s chin against her temple, can feel her nodding, can feel her standing up and pulling Jemma to her feet beside her, but all she sees is the metal grooves in the floor beneath her feet as Skye leads her back to the recovery room.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was born out of a need to know what might have happened if Coulson didn't have such quick reflexes, and what a mess things could have turned out to be. There will probably be more to come, but most likely just one more chapter unless things really get away from me.


End file.
